


Twin Palms Motel

by divisionfiction



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Flarke and Lostia are only mentioned, I tried not to make Finn too much of an asshole, Motel AU, and so I wrote, but you don't really see his side of things so the narration is slightly biased, if by slow-burn you mean no-burn then that's this fic, sorry y'all, the aesthetic spoke to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 18:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7856479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divisionfiction/pseuds/divisionfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm fine," Clarke replies, coolly but not unkindly. She turns her attention back to the pool and rests her chin on her knee. She feels more than sees the girl come and sit cross-legged beside her.</p><p>"The whiskey says otherwise," the girl replies gently with a small smile, and Clarke snorts.</p><p>"What, a girl can't drink bottom-shelf whiskey in a shitty motel on a Tuesday?"</p><p>//</p><p>Clarke is stranded in a motel, and finds the best company is a complete stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin Palms Motel

**Author's Note:**

> Twin Palms Motel is a name I completely made up. Any similarities to real or imagined motels are completely coincidental.
> 
> I saw an #aesthetic picture on tumblr and was inspired. This is the end result. I could expand it to be a two-shot (or more), but I kind of like it open-ended.
> 
> Not my first writing rodeo, but my first published fic. Let me know how I did?
> 
> (Beta'd for content, not for grammar, so any mistakes in that arena are mine. Related: shoutout to my dedicated beta, who reads everything I write, no matter how awful it is.)

The neon sign over the entrance to the roadside motel reflects dully on the surface of the pool. Gentle waves distort the image, and Clarke watches with a resigned emptiness and a muted fascination. Pinks, blues, and reds blend and twist rhythmically, and Clarke tries to focus on that instead of the mess inside her brain.

It's just past dusk, now; the sky is a dull, heavy blue, and the tall palm trees in the distance are mere black outlines on the horizon. Clarke had been at this motel since around noon; Finn had left, with a squeal of the tires, long before the sun had set. Clarke had watched the sun go down from her current position, perched at the edge of the pool with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She's clad in only a tank top and shorts, but she doesn't notice the chill that's crept into the air.

There's a partially-empty whiskey bottle on the concrete next to her; the best bang for her buck she could find on such short notice. Clarke uncaps it and takes a swig, not noticing when the gate to the pool area creaks open and then clicks shut.

"It's getting cold," a female voice says quietly behind Clarke, and she startles. She turns to greet the intruder, and finds a girl about her age standing awkwardly by the entrance to the pool area. She's got long, wavy brown hair, sharp green eyes framed by thick black glasses, and a perfect jawline. She's wearing a pullover with a faded "Polis U" written across the front, skinny jeans, and immaculate white Converses. Clarke, by contrast, looks a complete disaster with her worn tank top and messy bun. She can only imagine the state her makeup is in.

"I'm fine," Clarke replies, coolly but not unkindly. She turns her attention back to the pool and rests her chin on her knee. She feels more than sees the girl come and sit cross-legged beside her.

"The whiskey says otherwise," the girl replies gently with a small smile, and Clarke snorts.

"What, a girl can't drink bottom-shelf whiskey in a shitty motel on a Tuesday?"

The girl chuckles, but doesn't reply, and Clarke focuses again on the sign's distorted reflection on the pool's surface.  _ Twin Palms Motel, _ it reads.

The girl is silent a long while, and Clarke can practically hear the gears turning in her head. She seems like she wants to say something, but she isn't sure where to begin. Clarke is perfectly content to let her be. She thinks idly that there's something about strangers in strange places that encourages a sort of brave honesty; there's something about not knowing the person, not knowing their life story or how they'll react to something, that makes one bold.

The girl sighs as she runs a hand through her hair, pulling Clarke from her thoughts.

"I first came here three years ago," the girl begins, and Clarke turns her head to watch her. The girl is leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky; a few pale stars have begun to dot the deep blue here and there.

"My girlfriend of four years had just died in a car accident. I was a mess." Clarke's heart seizes; she knows what the pain of losing a loved one feels like all too well, and she wouldn't wish it on anyone. Before she can offer trite condolences, though, the girl continues.

"She died early in the spring semester. I tried to bury it, you know, just ignore the pain and keep going. I threw myself into my studies. I was doing well, but I was a shell of a person. I had never had many friends to begin with, but the ones I did have began to drift away. They treated me like I was fragile, like I would shatter at any moment. I don't blame them; none of them knew what to do, really."

The girl leans forwards, folding her hands in her lap, and gazes into the pool.

"Eventually, I couldn't take it. The way everyone was treating me was a daily reminder that she was gone, and it got to me. The week before finals, I got in my car and just  _ drove _ . I had no idea where I was going. Eventually, I wound up here.

"I ended up staying here for a month. I shut my phone off the first day I got here. I missed all my finals. I missed the day I was supposed to get home for the summer. My family freaked out. Eventually I had to call my mom from a payphone and assure her I was fine -- I just needed some time."

The girl looks up and meets Clarke's gaze, and Clarke's breath catches in her throat at the intensity, the raw  _ honesty _ in the girl's eyes.

"Being here gave me something I had been denying myself so long: the time to grieve properly and find closure. I had needed that time and space desperately, but I'd been stubborn, hoping that if I ignored it, the pain would go away. It didn't; not until I'd properly mourned, anyway.

"I don't know why you're here or what's wrong, but I guess I just wanted to let you know that sometimes, being stranded in a shitty motel on a Tuesday isn't the worst thing, after all. It's okay not to be okay sometimes."

Clarke stares at the girl, processing everything she just said. She's slightly taken aback by the girl's unwavering honesty, but then again, they were two complete strangers sitting by the pool at a roadside motel. Reality is always a bit distorted in places like this.

Eventually, Clarke settles on matching the girl's honesty with her own.

"My boyfriend and I got into a nasty argument, and he left me here. I have no way home currently. I decided that I'd figure everything out tomorrow. tonight, I'll just drink and try to forget."

The girl nods, and Clarke continues.

"My boyfriend -- or ex-boyfriend, I guess -- is in love with another girl. I found out from her. girls looking out for each other, I guess." Clarke smiles a dry, humorless smile. "They had been dating long before he and I had, but they had had a vague breakup before we started dating. Turns out, she thought they were on break, but he thought they were done. When she came back and wanted to make things work again, he chose her, emotionally.

"I finally confronted him about it today. I don't know why I decided to wait until we were hundreds of miles from home, but here I am."

Clarke sighs and gazes out at the pool.

"I'd known things were ending for months, honestly. I just never had the courage to end it myself. I'm not sure why."

"Sometimes we don't have rational reasoning for the things we do," the girl offers with a shrug. Clarke frowns.

"I guess not."

The two are comfortably silent for a while, with Clarke focusing on the distant sound of traffic and the gentle breeze that floats past. The girl beside her seems equally absorbed in thought; she's biting her lower lip gently.

"I saw your argument, andIi saw your boyfriend leave," the girl admits quietly, and Clarke glances over at her, surprised.

"You did?"

The girl nods.

"I was going to go out and yell at you two to keep it down, until I saw him drive off and you break down crying. I wanted to go out and see if you were okay, but I didn't think it was my place. I was just coming back from dinner when I saw you out here, and decided to talk to you."

Clarke smiles.

"I'm glad you did. It's nice to have someone to talk to about it. Even if that someone is a complete stranger."

The girl glances up at Clarke, and returns her smile.

"I'm Lexa, by the way," she offers, and Clarke sticks her hand out to shake overdramatically.

"Clarke, at your service."

Lexa's smile widens as she shakes her hand.

"Can I ask you something?" Clarke asks, resting her cheek on her knee. Lexa looks surprised, but nods.

"Why did you come back here?"

"I've come back every year since Costia, my girlfriend, died. I did it the first time out of a sense of nostalgia. I'd come so far in a year, and I wanted to revisit the place that had allowed that to happen. Then, it sort of became a tradition."

Lexa smiles a wry smile.

"This will be my last time, though. I just graduated college, and I'm going for a master's degree across the country. I think it's time to let this go."

Clarke watches as Lexa takes in the motel, in all its kitschy glory, and feels strangely nostalgic and sad for her.

"After my father died, I visited his grave a lot," Clarke confesses, and Lexa gazes back at her. "But, after I went off to college, I stopped visiting as much. Now, I hardly visit at all. I think it's pretty similar -- I just let it go." Clarke shrugs, and Lexa nods.

"Sometimes that's just what you have to do."

The sentence sounds deep and multi-layered, uttered in the quiet stillness of the night. The sky is fully dark now, and the pool area is illuminated only by a harsh floodlight. It casts half of Lexa's face in shadow, and accentuates the sharp lines of her face.

Clarke takes the girl in for a moment before a shudder wracks through her. The air has gotten considerably colder, and Clarke can no longer ignore the fact that she's underdressed.

"It's getting cold," Lexa offers gently. Clarke nods.

"It is."

Clarke takes one last look at the pool before she stands and stretches. She'd been seated in that position for so long, a dull ache has settled into her muscles. Stretching it out feels wonderful.

Beside her, Lexa stands as well, gazing at the sky again.

"Do you believe in fate?" Lexa asks, catching Clarke off guard.

"I… perhaps," Clarke answers vaguely. Truthfully, she's not sure. She'd always hated the idea that some grand scheme controlled her life; but now, the idea sounds vaguely romantic.  _ Things happen for a reason _ and all that.

Lexa smiles in response.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Clarke."

"Likewise, Lexa," Clarke returns with a grin. Without another word, Lexa turns and leaves the pool area, carefully latching the gate closed behind her. Clarke watches as her figure retreats into the motel and out of view.

Clarke gazes up at the night sky and realizes she doesn't feel quite as  _ heavy _ as she did earlier. Perhaps Lexa was right; perhaps being stranded in a shitty motel on a Tuesday isn't so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr [@divisionfiction](http://divisionfiction.tumblr.com)


End file.
